Runaway
by Sir Cheesy Fries
Summary: She was just a runaway who ran from an empty life of sorrow and despair. Her only wish in life was to be happy, but life doesn't always work like that. When her life takes a turn to the worst, what's better to run off to than Waffle Island?
1. Start

**I is back!**

**I'm going to try to actually finish this story unlike my others… it's a Luke/Angela/Chase story, it probably won't have too many chapters but hopefully I'll be satisfied with it. xD I don't really know which pairing I'll make either… they'll both find some love forever and ever!**

**Anyways… have fun reading! : )**

The incessant taping of hard-edged fingernails annoyed her to no end. If there was one thing that annoyed her, it was unnecessary noises that people decided to create when inattentive.

"Would you mind stopping that?" she asked the strawberry blond boy in front of her, a frustrated tone adding edge to my tiny voice. The girl was sitting at the bar area of the Inn, where she had been staying for about a day since the fatal faint on the way to Waffle Island. At her outburst Chase spun around from tying the string of his apron around his waist with a smirk on his face. "And people tell me that I get angry easily," he teased. _I just want to slap that smirk off his face, _Angela thought, fuming. He finished tying the string into a knot and turned back to the kitchen. Said girl let out a puff of air and glared at his back. "You should be the one to talk," she retorted harshly, her jaw set in a fashion of frustration and big brown eyes fanned by long, dark lashes narrowed towards him. _Stupid boy._

Angela could almost feel him raising his eyebrows, his back to her. Crossing her arms on the bar table, she let her head rest in strong, pale arms. After waking up around 10 yesterday – a typical waking time for the city girl turned country – she had met up with the mayor. To her dismay, he had told her to go around and introduce herself. When she finally got back to the Inn, after getting lost numerous times and shaking hands with several strangers, the time was 12:10, and to her horror, she then found out that it had closed ten minutes. She was tired of knocking 5 minutes in, and had given up at this point and stayed by the door, her chilly spine leaning on it's smooth, oak frame, when Chase had opened the door on his way out back to his house.

She truly wasn't a morning person, as the certain blond cook had blatantly guessed that morning. Perhaps it was her usual fiery attitude that happened to spark up more often than during the afternoon, or the way she talked less in her "just woke up" moments. Angela scratched at the back of her head and lifted it up just in time to smell the mouthwatering aroma of sizzling pancakes. Peering over Chase's shoulder, she watched as he expertly flipped them, showing off the golden-brown color of the finished side. She spied blueberries in a small, clear bowl to his left and grabbed one of them, popping it in her mouth. The taste was succulent on her hungry stomach, but not what she'd considered filling. "I am _so _hungry," she complained to the back of the chef, the scent of freshly made blueberry flapjacks wafting through her nostrils. Chase shot her an annoyed look and put a couple of the flat, round breakfast cakes on a plate before sliding it towards her along with a pitcher of maple syrup.

He was rather used to having early customers grumping to him, though not _this _early, and he had learned to block out the unwanted noise rather well in order to concentrate on his cooking. But this girl was different – he didn't like to block the harmonious call of her light murmur. A small smile playing on his lips, he placed the newest of the breakfast cakes onto a plate and turned the heat on the griddle off. The scent seemed to entice the young woman seated at the counter. He hoped her house got repaired quickly. What was her name? Ann? Alexandra? No, no… it was Angela. Personally, he didn't believe that anybody would fall for the brochure that Hamilton had sent out that his best friend, Gill, had told him about. Chase wiped the excess batter from the pancakes on his hands against his teal apron and turned his attention to washing the dishes.

Instead, he was interrupted by the ringing of a bell that informed him of a customer coming in. Angela turned her attention away from the delectable pancakes, expecting to see Mayor Hamilton (which she often thought of Hamilton from a TV show she watched as a kid when she said or thought his name) or Pascal, some soul to take her away from her peace and drag her around the island once more. To her surprise, the customer was not one of them, but instead a guy who looked around her age. He had blue hair and a young face, with cat-like golden eyes. His unruly blue hair was held back by a white bandana with red flames printed on it. He wore a red vest over a white t-shirt that had little sleeves over muscled, toned arms. A shark tooth tied around a red string adorned his neck, and knuckle gloves covered the knuckles on his two hands. She felt her cheeks get warm and she looked away. Though she would hopefully not say this out loud, the boy was pretty cute. The image of him was stuck behind her eyelids as she closed them in an attempt to calm her racing heart. It was to no avail, so eventually her chocolate brown eyes snapped open once more, trained on the stove that sat directly across from her.

While Chase just offered him a friendly nod and called for Kathy, Angela felt eyes boring into her back as she slid the emptied plate towards the sink. "I didn't know it was 9:30 yet," she mused with a slight frown. Her rude attitude was almost always better after she ate, and it wasn't everyday that she got a chef to cook for her.

Before either of them could say a word, Kathy had come out, and upon seeing the boy, greeted him, "Luke! What can I get for you?"

"Three spinach pancakes, of course! I come here often enough that you should know that, Kathers!" he shouted happily, wagging his finger in the air as if scolding the blonde waitress, who in turn rolled her eyes at his childishness. "I should've known," she said to humor him, mock disappoint laced around her usual accent. Without a word, Kathy relayed his order as 'the usual' to Chase.

Angela figured that he'd sit at the table by the window, or any other table. Instead, the blue-haired adolescent seated himself on the stool next to the one that she had regained. Once again, she felt as if someone was looking at her, and to her dismay, her cheeks tinged a light pink. "Stop… stop staring," she protested weakly, keeping her eyes averted from the one Kathy had addressed as Luke. From the corner of her eye, she noted that his golden-hued eyes had widened impressively. She let out a giggle, and the toothy grin returned the soft features of Luke's face. His eyes brightened at her compliance. "New girl! I don't think we've met yet, but you're the talk of the town!" he greeted, excited. She frowned, which confused him to no end. "I haven't met you yet? You don't look familiar, but I thought I had met everyone!" she inquired, looking worried.

"Nah, don't worry about it! I'm Luke! Have you met Bo or Pops yet?"

It was then that Kathy cut in. She glanced at Angela with an amused smile on her lips. "By Pops, he means Dale. You must've met him – he works as the carpenter along with Bo and Luke," she supplied.

Luke watched the young girl's features as understanding dawned on her face. A _new best friend_! He thought happily. The young carpenter glanced at Chase, who had been looking at her. _What kind of look was that?_ He thought with a small laugh that was caged inside the outline of his mind before training his attention back on the new farmer. The news of her arrival had spread like an epidemic – word of the young girl had reached the town even before she stepped foot on the island.

A girl's voice shocked him out of his thoughts. "Shoot, I'm really sorry! I didn't know how many villagers there were, and you must've been the only one I missed, but I got home at midnight last night and was too exhausted to-"

Luke chuckled heartily, which intervened in her babbling and told her to stop talking. His left hand moved to scratch the back of his neck. "Don't worry about it, just you owe me lunch sometime!" laughed the boy. He opened his cat-like eyes when the smell of his pancakes that Chase had recently slid over to him hit him. Angela stared at them, a horrified expression on her face. "Are you… actually… going to _eat_ them?" she asked stupidly, her chocolate brown eyes locked onto the steaming plate. Her face was already starting to look a little green and her nose wrinkled slightly at the thought of him consuming such an unsavory looking dish. The thought of it would've ruined her appetite had she not eaten before.

Golden eyes met darker brown eyes and the corners of his mouth curled up. "What else am I supposed to do with it? Spinach is the bomb! Want to share?" he queried with a grin that favored the soft contours of his face. Angela's nose scrunched up at the suggestion. "Er, no thanks, I just ate," she interjected fastidiously, making note to never give in to the invitation, and veered her eyes somewhere else. They managed to lock onto the door of the Inn, and she wondered how nobody could've heard her banging on it furiously late last night.

The Sundae Inn was a cozy place. Both the interior and exterior was made to look friendly and like a home. A couple flowers sat in sienna clay pots by the small doorstep that led to the wooden double doors of a two-story Inn. It's dark wooden floorboards contrasted against the cream and light brown wallpaper. Stripes and diamond suits prints adorned the wallpaper. A large table with a green tablecloth sat in the middle of the room.

However charming the Inn was, Angela couldn't wait to have her own house, even if it required farming expertise and more work. She took the offer to work a farm as an excuse to get away from a life of emptiness back in the city. Though her parents had always had trouble, the young rancher never expected this. There was a few too many drinks swallowed, and suddenly, the last time she saw her father. The doctor later diagnosed it as a deathblow to his liver. She was nearing her 18th birthday at the time, and it was a rough blow to her grades and her thoughts. As hard as her mother tried to fix the issue, it was an ongoing one, and there was only one conclusion: it was blatant that his death had caused it.

Her mother tried to get better, but her widowed state took over her life. There was little to no smiles at the dinner tables, only the clinking of her silverware scraping against the plate. Trips to fun places and long road trips and camping sessions were extinct in Angela's world now. During dinner, her only figure of authority would lock herself in their bedroom that she had once shared with her deceased husband and weep quietly. Hot tears flowing like waterfalls down pale gaunt cheeks, she would cry out in a broken voice the name of a lost lover.

Their family had always been coordinated and neat. Angela didn't remember a Sunday they didn't go to Church, or a dinner that they didn't give their thanks to the world above. Sunday mornings with family were now replaced with the still of silence and an unspoken agreement between mother and daughter.

Angela shut her eyes tightly, pushing the memory to the very back of her mind. She silently willed her moist eyes to not give in, to not start crying at that point. "I should probably head off, I'd like to explore," she told them with a slight gulp, trying to rid of the small lump that had formed in her throat. At the door she turned to Chase and Luke and waved at them before disappearing out the door.

That morning found her feet going places she wasn't aware of, moving without her consent. It all came out quickly – she wasn't about to bother keeping herself collected. As soon as the salty tears started to run freely, Angela found herself slumped against a nearly dead tree. Damp fingers ran through the tangled locks of her chestnut hair and watery pools formed on the rough fabric of her denim shorts. Her salty tears made stains where it touched her shirt.

Angela's dad's death hurt her beyond belief. The nineteen year old had been in her senior year of a small town's high school. It was never really her mother who had structured her relationship and love for her parents. Her mother was the brainwork, while the father spent time with her. Then tragedy struck. Grades started falling. There was more absent days in two weeks than she had ever been gone from school in her whole lifetime. Though she had been homeschooled into 2nd grade by her Mother, Angela's life link would always be her father. She wiped at her nose with the back of her hand and let out a strangled sob.

"Ange?"

It was one voice that made her freeze in her depressed state and not glance up. She was afraid of meeting his eyes.

"Angela?"

She would've had to be stupid to not recognize the voice of her rescuer. It dug holes into her heart and rubbed onion into her teary brown eyes. "No," she whispered, almost silent. "No!"

**I was just watching Harvest Moon videos on YouTube and there was the AWL ending and I cried so hard. It was so depressing… what kind of people would end a game in that way?**

**Anyways… what do you think? The next chapter should come up within 2 or 3 days. Well, it depends if I'm feeling motivated. It was a bit of an emotional chapter here… towards the end, at least. **

**Sorry for any mistakes that might've been made – I'm typing this without ever playing Tree of Tranquility (I know what you're thinking… wut. Stalker status!) **

**If you guys have any suggestions, please tell me. My thinker's not too developed… In fact, this story doesn't have too much of a plot, I just started typing away. xD**


	2. Loss

**Runaway**

The young man locked mahogany eyes on the trembling form of a girl, the corners of his mouth captured in a heart-stopping grin. "It's _so _good to see you, Akari," he drawled ruthlessly, slowly advancing towards her, the sarcastic edge to his voice clear as a starry night, "Would you not agree?" Angela didn't need to open her eyes – in fact, she much preferred she would wake up from this nightmare – to decipher the proprietor behind the falsely cheery bravado of the voice. All she felt like doing was to take off at full speed, but it was rather clear he could outrun her in this state. She tried desperately, alarmingly to muster up the courage inside her heart, but much to her disappoint, there was none to be grabbed at. The grin that embellished his face sent daggers through her skin and pierced her fragile heart.

Kai Hostford. It was nothing more than a simple name, nothing less than a cruel allegiance to his parents. To her, though, the three syllables were an alias of puzzle pieces askew, the sound of chalk screeching against the hard surface of a chalkboard, a frightening story told by storytellers at midnight, the tempestuous waves crashing into a helpless toy boat in the middle of a large ocean. The name was the livid flames confined to the depths of the Underground, the shrieks of pain and torture splitting the silent air, blood being spilled on the battleground.

To her, he was Satan and she was an angel.

He was the face she had spit in and then ran away, laughing.

Angela turned to the familiar face, her moist skin soaking the tears that dripped down from her eyes like a dying plant without water. As soon as their eyes met, the shockwaves that she had cupped up in her hands and stored away so long ago flowed between the two.  
>The electricity gave her new found fortitude. "I wish I could say the same to you," she retorted rather dryly. Her hands met the rugged texture of the old tree and, without hesitation; she pushed herself up so she was standing.<p>

It took only the slightest of sounds to move her attention away from Kai, and she glanced up at the squirrel that stood scrunched up against the tree about halfway down who had just loudly chattered at them. Within a few seconds, the small creature ended its babbling and scooted back up towards the leafy canopy. Her bottom teeth tugged at her bottom lip; it was the only thing she could do to resist a smile that threatened to emerge.

When she had altered her attention span back to one irritably disrespectful boy, her light brown eyes veered of course and she caught a glimpse of his bottom lip, which was just slightly jutting out under his top lip. "I'm sure you wish, Akari," he said menacingly, the tone of his voice dangerously low. "But sometimes you don't get what you wish for."

"Oh, yeah, that's rich coming from you. Pray do tell that your New Year's Resolution worked out?" countered Angela, face scrunched up in distaste. What was she doing wasting time arguing with him?

"Ah, I beg to differ. The girls I've-"

"I don't need you to explain me it, Hostford," she snapped irritably, her face livid, causing him to chuckle evilly, that grin still plastered upon the bulk of his face. "Piss off."

His raised eyebrows met at the middle of his forehead and a frown marred the features of his face. "Surely you wouldn't want that," he asked in mock surprise, throwing a hand over his mouth dramatically. The dark, short eyelashes that fanned his equally dark eyes battered upwards. A slight breeze that raffled through the Island at that moment blew her hair across her face, and Kai took this moment to attack. "Looks like you're out of wishes," he breathed patronizingly, his usually low voice breathy and made to sound gentle.

The last thing that her brain recorded was the blur of skin that flew towards her face.

…

_Beep._

In her state of stupor, her ears were the only functional thing on her body other than slow, steady breathing. Her eyes refused to let her see beyond closed eyelids; there was no scent to be detected. Whenever she tried to move her mouth, no words came out, and it felt as if her lips were numb yet glued together. It seemed like her ears were disconnected from the rest of her body like she felt.

Though the lack of feelings, Angela felt a horrific, wrenching pain in her gut. What had happened? At the moment, her brain felt as if it were on overload. There was no words, no emotions, that can to mind when she tried to reach it, and once again she felt the disconnection between her bodily functions.

"She's awake?" Angela tried to turn at the voice, but her body stayed as if it was frozen to whatever she was laying on. Or was she still leaning against something? The brunette had no idea of her whereabouts.

"It appears so, but it seems as if she's in a stupor," a man's voice came in reply. She could make out the light scuffling noises as others making their way around the room, and the shuffling of something papery sounding. There was a slight rattle, then a poorly suppressed sigh of relief. Where was she?

"She looks as if she could be out without a few moments and about an hour. Are her hands twitching yet?"

Angela heard that sigh of relief again. However, she was confused. Were her hands twitching? The girl could feel nothing in her lower body, and her head was pounding now. She hoped this man could help her feel better. It all reminded her of her doctor that she had when she was only 7. What she was like then was what would've made her frown upon her childhood days as an adult.

"Great, she should be out shortly now. She'll probably need to rest up and take some pain relievers."

As if on cue, she slowly regained her senses. She could smell. The pain in her gut suddenly multiplied. Though her head was still pounding, the clumsy girl could get thoughts through to her mind and replies back.

With a quiet shriek, her eyelids fluttered rapidly to reveal a rich shade of brown eyes.

"Where am I?" were the first words uttered by the awaken girl, eyes wide. They darted from Chase's spot to next to her, where Doctor Jin, who she had met yesterday (or was it another day…?), stood, his gaze on her. She watched as Chase scratched at the back of his neck with a sheepish smile.

It was Jin who spoke first. "We don't know _exactly _what went down," he informed the stricken resident, emphasizing on the word 'exactly', "but Chase noticed you while he was walking around town. He says you were laying still by a tree, but there was no other evidence." He laughed quietly at his patient's rather panicked expression while Chase glanced away from the two without a peep.

Suddenly the day's events reeled around her. Her head hung. "Kai," she thought out loud, the cursed name coming out in nothing more than a frightened whisper. When she looked up towards the ceiling, her eyes were met by the Doctor's and Chase's gaze focused on her. She smiled slightly sheepishly when they questioned what she had said, and she shrugged, her eyes looking down at the ground, inspecting the white tiles below her. It was never any good to drag people into her affairs – it always ended up badly, and this had nothing to do with them anyway.

"Angie!"

The three of them pivoted as Luke came running through the door of the clinic. Angela grinned cheekily as the carpenter's foot struck on something and he tripped, nearly falling to his face but saving himself from a fall at the last moment. _What will I do with that boy?_ She questioned herself, happy to have a friend, something she had lacked in the last month of her city life. Though she had just only met Luke, it was evident that the two of them were to become good friends. Sure, she knew Chase as well, but it wasn't that he was in the 'friend' zone yet, which actually made her wonder about his presence here. _He found me, he deserves to at least know my fate, _Angela told herself sharply.

"Sup, Angie! I just heard you were awake; I've been waiting _forever _for you to wake up! What happened?" inquired the blue-haired boy, beaming down at where she sat on the hospital bed. Jin sported an annoyed look on his face, but he quietly and quickly composed it to look calm. "Never you mind," the doctor told Luke swiftly, adjusting the position of his wire-framed glasses which had been rapidly sliding down to the bridge of his nose as he moved about the office. His hand grasped at a sheet of white paper and a bottle of what Angela assumed to be pills and he set them, ever so silent, on the small table near the clinic bed. As soon as her eyes had veered back towards Luke, his mouth opened as if he wanted to say something, but it closed again, a frown marring his youthful face. Angela turned back to the doctor shuffling around the room. "How long have I been out?" she asked, a little nerved by Luke's definition of what 'forever' could be. Chase answered instead. "It's been about one and a half days since you left the Inn, so it's about 4:00 or 5:00 at the moment. Jin said you were in a stupor, so that's why you didn't wake up."

She wordlessly nodded; surprised he had spoken for the boy had not yet spoken after she was stuck in her unconscious state, then the realization of _what _he had spoken about hit her. "That's almost two days!" cried the distressed brunette, seeming hurried to get out of bed as soon as possible. As soon as she had jumped up Luke had her in a hold and set her back down onto the bed. Doctor Jin glanced at her, exasperation clear on his face. "Yes, yes, your house has since been repaired and is now ready to move into," he informed her rather impatiently. His emotionless charcoal eyes moved towards her face, and he moved his head towards Chase. "I will assume that you will thankful and respectful enough to at least thank your friend for finding you – Goddess knows what could've happened if you weren't found. It sounds like you were in a pretty secluded area by the way he described it."

Angela's line of sight switched to Chase, and she gulped and gave him a quick smile. "Thanks. I didn't know where I was going… my legs… they were just leading me somewhere," she thanked him with another quirk of the corners of those pink lips.

Jin nodded once more. "Alright, just sign this paper right next to you, and you're free to live, given that you promise to attempt to be safer."

The smile slipped off her face and she glanced over the paper one time before catching the blank line with her eye and putting the messy scrawl of her signature above it. Without another word, said farmer bounded out, forgetting all about her stomach.

"Angela, wait up," Chase called calmly, his eyebrows knitted together. What was with this girl? She turned around and stood in that spot, a grin on her face. Mesmerizing violet eyes flicked towards hers as he looked at her skeptically. "I should probably walk you home. You probably won't feel too good and Jin said dizziness bestows upon you when you are sick," he said, a worried tone to his voice.

Angela took one glance at him and snorted. "I can handle myself, Chase," she told him rather matter-of-factly, wrinkling her nose as she had done with Luke's spinach pancakes and looking at him with scrutinizing eyes. As a lump formed within his chest, he couldn't help but feel rather intimidated by the younger human. "I just happened to be the wrong place at the wrong time." Her eyes widened as she realized what she had blurted, and then she rolled her eyes casually, waving him off.

"Angela," he stated stubbornly.

"Chase."

"I won't ask what you meant by the 'wrong place at the wrong time' fiction, but you don't even know where the farm is," he informed her rather warily. Angry narrowed eyes belonging to none other than Angela swiveled towards him in less than a second. What he didn't tell her was that, after Jin checked her body for bruises, he had informed him of several small dark spots along her stomach and on the side of her head.

"You don't believe me?" she asked, her voice low and all her attention focused on him. "Since when did you start caring about strangers, Chase? If I recall correctly, the first night I met you, you were – at the least – rude and inconsiderate," she continued, advancing towards him in all his glorified strawberry blond hair, his light purple eyes that swam with emotions. When he said nothing, her angry look melted into a smirk as she turned on her heel and stalked off.

"You're going in the wrong direction!"

…

When Angela had returned home, after continuous minutes of searching for the farmland as she had ignored Chase's yell of advice, she was tired, even after spending a whole night and half of a day asleep. In an attempt to work on the firm in the slightest bit, she pulled one weed, but due to her fatigue, then sat down on the cool Spring grass and thought for a bit. Her mind wandered to Kai, to farming, to animals, then to Chase. At that thought, though, she screwed up her nose and switched to thinking about hanging out with Luke tomorrow.

Needless to say, Angela was astounded by the lack of decoration put into the outside of her house. To her horror, the outer paint was colored a light, light pink. It was enough to nearly wet herself. The roof was a darker shade of pink, almost a maroon red, but more of a pink quality. It didn't help that it was about as small as her old bedroom. With a barely suppressed sigh at her house, Angela shuffled inside. Though relieved to see it was a _bit _bigger than what it appeared to be outside, she was still kind of bummed, but the Mayor had made sure that she was to be comfortable at her house. There was a bed right next to a small nightstand, a small kitchen that was just big enough to cook in, chairs and a table, the television and a telephone along with what she assumed to be a calendar pinned up on a wall. She flipped through it, her theory correct.

The brunette wandered back to her bed, contemplating whether she wanted to put her aching feet to rest or whether she preferred to stay up a little later when she tripped on something. She glanced back to see her bag that had apparently been retrieved from the inn room that she had been staying the night at. From the corner of her eye the farmer glimpsed a bright shade of her favorite color inside her bag.

Angela leaned over the over-stuffed bag with her belongings that she had brought onto the boat in a whim before straightening herself up again and scooting out on the chairs so she could sit at the table. The brunette's small hands cradled around a wrapped package in light blue paper; the shape of it suggested that it could be a book within. With a quizzical look, Angela set to unwrapping the gift.

It was a embellished leather book in navy blue, bound by a black leather strap with a buckle of silver connecting the two ends of the straps and securing the journal. She fingered at the buckle silently, the other hand resting on the hook of her nose. After a few seconds of admiring the front, she flipped the book over. Long fingers grazed over the engraved lettering on the back of the small book. The transcript read _Un sou pour vos pensées _in gold. _A penny for your thoughts, _she thought, smiling slightly at the thought of her father.

It was the first time she had finally unwrapped the present that had sat in her stuffed closet. The gift had been from her father a couple days before he had died. She remembered his specific orders to not open it until 'when four days had passed'.

For the first time, Angela unbuckled the diary and opened it to the first page. To the left of the embellished stationary was a white piece of paper held there by a small piece of tape with words scrawled messily onto the lines. Her eyes scanned the signature at the bottom with a jolt of anguish. There was a sharp intake of air. She breathed the heavy air around hair once, twice.

Teary brown eyes veered to the beginning of the note.

_My little Angel,_

_By the time you are reading this I will already be gone. Long gone, most probably, because I know you and you will not want to open this present until after you have fully recovered. I saw this journal on a last business trip to France and thought of you. I hope you'll use it to your advantage and continue writing your blissful poetry; the wonders it got me through. Know that I'll forever be watching you and I'll never give up hope. You are my amazing little girl, and I hope you don't let anyone convince you otherwise. You are my shining star._

_Toujours et pour toujours,_

_Votre ange gardien_

It was enough to make her tears flow freely once more in what seemed like the umpteenth time in the past couple of days. She hugged her sore, tired knees close to her chest and let the tears fall from the corners of her eyes and slide down her flushed cheeks. Why did he have to leave the two of them? Angela tried to be angry at him, but those fictitious feelings were easily pushed out of her bumbling mind. _He said it was his 'time'. He basically killed himself; _she thought achingly, her brain lingering on the last two words of her train of thought. _He killed himself._

An involuntary scream found its way out of her mouth. The tears were hot against her cheek despite the fact it was cool in the house. She cradled her legs and rocked back and forth on the chair, her teeth tugging at her bottom lip. It was about 15 minutes before she had calmed down. Her cries and tears were reduced to almost silent whimpers and the occasional drop of water sliding down her face. The raging headache she had been set on ignoring was pounding now as fast as her erratically beating heart.

She grabbed the pen in the journal and began scribbling words, the rare tear dropping onto the elaborate paper and staining it. She had skipped a couple lines before.

_You pulled the gun,_

_But still your secrets I will keep;_

_For the longest time you took away my sun,_

_Leaving me with only rain to weep_

_But forgiveness is to accept,_

_And with a broken heart today I know_

_That though you left us without adept,_

_In our hearts for us you sew._

Without another word, Angela scribbled one word at the top of the page, wiping at her eyes.

Loss.

**A big thank you is in order for anyone who read my story, and an even greater one to those who reviewed or story alerted or put it on their favorites!**

_**Un sou pour vos pensées**_** means 'a penny for your thoughts'**

_**Toujours et pour toujours **_**is 'always and forever'.**

_**Votre ange gardien**_** is 'your guardian angel'.**

**Her father saying that also leads back to French bloodlines. **

**I was thinking of either having Chase rescue her from Kai, or having him hit her… I chose the latter, because it has some outline with her experience when she was dating him.**

**Thanks for reading. ^_^**


	3. AN: Hiatus

Hey, guys! It's Sir Cheesy Fries here. This 'chapter' is just an author's note. Not a lot of good news to be found here… Just read on to find what this is about.

This story is not being discontinued, but rather, on hiatus of sorts. My computer crashed about 2 weeks ago, thus the reason of no updates along with being super busy. I managed to get on a laptop for now, but I don't have enough time to write a whole chapter. It still hasn't gotten fixed, and I'm not sure it's going to be a while yet… of course, I'll try to work on a chapter on this laptop (which is not mine, by the way).

I sprained my ankle last Wednesday night when I was riding horses, and let me just say that I absolutely _hate crutches!_

_Sadly, I start school in a couple days, so with that in addition to a nonworking computer, the updates will be even slower. Ugh, right? _

_Thanks for taking your time to read this. I'm sorry it's not a chapter, but it's only fair to tell you about the semi-hiatus of the story._


End file.
